


Your voice...

by Katherin_Ravenlin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Desperation, Hand Jobs, Innocent Katsuki Yuuri, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Smut, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, POV Katsuki Yuuri, POV Victor Nikiforov, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Crush, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, no beta we die like man, not actually unrequited crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28925148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherin_Ravenlin/pseuds/Katherin_Ravenlin
Summary: Yuuri's body start to tingle in the strangest ways since Victor moved to the Inn and he descides to adress the problem. Victor simply just wanted to go to the toilet - and gained relief in more than on sense.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Your voice...

After getting back from the shower Yuuri slid his door shut and stumbled to his bed with little finesse in his steps. He was thoroughly exhausted from training, his body was aching and his brain was fizzling with exhaustion and restlessness at the same time. This feeling has settled upon him at the second he saw Victor in the onsen, all in his naked glory, so beautiful and alluring and _potent_.

This was one of his main concerns.

**POV Yuuri**

I have never really been pursued or chased by alphas, since I wasn't something alluring myself too, to be honest. Other omegas seemed to have a softness and the sense of home-piece-family soaked into their skin, radiating it freely towards the world to bath in it, their soft curves and voice pulling tons of Alphas to them. I have never been one of them. I was shy and not in an attractive way. I turned inwards when under stress and not towards Alphas and I also wasn't willing to be a burden to anyone. This meant Alphas only made me feel uncomfortable when they tried to provide for me and that drove them away like a gun pointed at them. And then I didn't even mention my body. Instead of soft curves and soft voice, all I had was either an overly muscular or an overweight body, thick glasses and average features. Nothing life an Omega supposed to be, nothing soft, nothing appetizing, nothing alluring. Nothing special.

And still. When I looked at Victor in the onsen, I _wanted_. Dismissing all the hard work through my life I put into accepting the fact that I am on the bottom of favourable options for probably every Alpha out there Victor waltzed into my life and had my carefully constructed and strengthened walls tumbling down on me. I wanted to shred my clothes in the steamy room, sink into the water with him, snuggle into his chest and bury my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. I imagined as the skater god wrapping his longs, slender but still muscular arms around me and hugging me closer, pulling my hips to his, folding our bodies to each other. My body tingled again, I noticed with annoyance, as I felt warmth coiling inside me, setting up a fire that these days kept insisting on being satisfied. I seriously considered buying a toy, just to make thing easier. With Victor around, I would be probably doing this now every other day and pleasuring myself... has never been my strong suit. Quite frankly, I sucked at it. I spent my first heat locked away in a medical centre, so no Alphas would take advantage of me - but damn, how much I wanted it during the heat to be claimed, and taken apart, no matter by whom, - since it started out of the blue, just like most first heat does. I wouldn't say it was a very pleasant way to spend my first week in Detroit, but it wasn't like I could help it.

I went on heat suppressants immediately and I was ready to ignore my terrible history with relationships and physical intimacy - or the lack thereof - for an eternity. I felt left alone and unwanted sometimes, but I focused on other things, built up my life and career, and I rarely felt the hollow, empty feeling anymore when I looked at myself in the mirror. No one will want me, but that's okay. I am more than a piece of flesh to be wanted. I have skating for love - and I love it just about as passionately as most people love their lovers -, so swallowing down the mild disgust that came with seeing myself on reflecting surfaces or screens became easier and easier by the time passing slowly by with the years.

But now my career was crumbling down and my hero, my idol was here in the flesh, a living and breathing life-line I wanted to cling into with every fibre of my being, and I was angry. I was angry at myself for wanting something that never will be in my league or my reach, for wanting someone who was so close to me on a daily basis, for losing my cool and sense of my own worth, for being like some weak, easy Omega, soaking their underwear just from the scent of an appealing Alpha near them. But the hate didn't burn away my lust and my desperation, my body betraying me as I felt like slowly I was being set on fire. I didn't want to do this. I didn't.

But I was going to anyway. My unsure hands hesitantly, shyly slipped under my bathrobe, as I hesitantly parted my soaked folds to search for my opening. It tingled and it was foreign, it didn't feel right, it didn't feel satisfying. Laying on the bed on my side and one foot still on the mattress I pushed one digit into myself and I felt myself instinctively clench. I had sex ed in Detroit, I knew how the biology of it worked - this was my body's way of pleasing the Alpha. I heard the phrases "tight as a virgin,", and "delicious clench," a thousand times when I was around Alphas. It was to please and encourage the Alpha. But still, here I was, all alone, pathetically trying to coax my body into peace with no one to take care of me - because no one wanted to. No one wanted me. _"Would you be alone if you very any good as an Omega?"_ called the toxic little voice in my head, that distinctly has always sounded like one of my elementary school bullies. I winced, completely not in the mood, but my channel still kept burning and my body was restless. I couldn’t stop; well, I could but then I wouldn't get any sleep, and that is not an option.

I just decided that to get into 'the mood' - whatever that meant - I needed some input, some inspiration. And oh, it was too sudden to arrive as I just glanced up to the wall opposite to me, where a poster of Victor Nikiforov looked back at me with a playful smirk while leaning on the border of the rink in St Petersburg, the picture illuminated by the sharp moonlight, that filled the streets at such late hours. The squeak that left my mouth was beyond embarrassing, but I was more worried that someone would hear it. Forcefully biting down on my lips I started to move my finger, swirling it around slightly and massaging places that have almost always been ignored, making my channel clench down and release more slick. My head spun dangerously as if I was drunk. It was not the disoriented kind of spinning that you get after too many jumped and spins. It was the dimming kind, that vanished your fears and cares into tomorrow and made you bold and uncaring. It was liquid fire; it was enticing and very dangerous. I pushed my finger deeper, with more vigour. Even though it was pathetic, _I_ was pathetic I still had to get over this, and no one was around to see my shame so I swallowed the bitter pill and eased another finger into myself. The space inside of me definitely wasn't enough, I felt the same burn when I was stretching my limbs during training, and it was not pleasant at all. The hope, that with stimulation this feeling somehow eases away or disappears betrayed me royally, proving to be a complete turn off to have something in me that stretched me wider than one finger. What an utter failure I was as an Omega. No wonder no Alpha wanted me. I couldn't even fit a second finger inside of me, no to talk about an Alphas's manhood or God forbid, a child. I was no good. Other omegas thrived on the feeling of being filled to the brim, of being taken and taken over...

Heated waves of illusions invaded my mind like a tsunami. I imagined Victor, in all of his naked glory lying on me, slim waist between my spread legs as he buries himself deep inside of me, protectively and possessively encaging me with his arms between his burning body and the bed, pressing his forehead to mine and kisses me before he starts to thrust, and I see stars, every bit of his movement sinking me deeper and deeper into a drugged state, where I could only hold onto his strong shoulder and the only words left in my vocabulary was reduced to _Victor_ , _please_ and _fuck me_. My hands wandered unconsciously to my member stroking myself like a madman, while still floating in this illusion as I pushed my finger deeper and faster in and out inside of me, and I could almost believe that it was Victor who was massaging my insides, filling me up just perfectly. It felt so real, so real that I felt the scent of aroused Alpha deep in his nose, mingling with the scent of cinnamon, smoke, steel and earth; a combination that belonged to a certain Russian, and that I could pick out from thousands without hesitation.

I realized only that I was whining and mewling freely when almost sterile come spurred out of my penis, dirtying my hand at the same time with my inner walls that clamped down and I couldn't help but arch my back into it, my body convulsing and twisting with pleasure as I threw my head back to moaned, loudly. But I was way too out of it to care.

Only when the illusion and the heat started to fade did I realize what I have just done. Victor came all the way here from Russia to coach me because he saw potential in me. And here I was, acting like a wanton Omega whore! I am just a sorry, desperate little kid who will wait for Prince Charming until his dying day and die a virgin. I pulled my hands away from myself with disgust and hate, pulled my legs up to my chest and let out the first cry. I wanted to fix myself, to wash away the dirt, the awkwardness, the averageness. Sobs broke out of my chest, unstoppably, leaving me gasping for air. I knew people could hear me, maybe someone would even come to check on me, and it was frightening and humiliating enough to snap me out of my breakdown for enough time to stand up from the bed.

With still tears leaking from my eyes I retied my bathrobe and ran down the hallway to wash myself. I felt dirty, in more sense than one.

**POV Victor Nikiforov**

I got off of the phone with Chris and I took my way to the bathroom. But as soon as I set foot on the wooden floor of the corridor my nose was filled with alluring, taunting sweetness, a scent of caramelized sugar, sea salt and mint that had me shiver- Yuuri's scent. I shook myself for a second as soon as I noticed what I was doing. Even though I wasn't an expert coach I knew lusting after one's student couldn't possibly result in any good. I was enthralled by Yuuri, the way his body didn't only become one the music but who became the music itself, the way he told the stories hiding the depths of his soul without any words. I admired Yuuri for it and saw potential in him - this is why I had to refrain from giving in to my urges, even though I developed a much closer friendship with my right hand since the first time I saw Yuuri on video.

I just steeled myself for holding my breath until I reach the bathroom when I passed Yuuri's door and heard something, that made me freeze in place. "Victor!" came the high-pitched, squeaky whine. I felt like a rubber band that is being pulled too tight, afraid to snap if I even blink. My breaths got shallow as Yuuri's scent thickened around me, the scent of starved, desperate Omega was almost too much for me, it made my head spin and my blood rush south with an almost dizzying speed. I clenched my fist to keep my hand away from where I was aching, but my restrain was thoroughly challenged, when sounds from tiny, soft mewls to lewd, unashamed moans started to pour out of the sinful lips of one Katsuki Yuuri, making me frustrated to no end. I couldn’t bring myself to walk away, I couldn’t move, just listen and stay put like a deer in the headlights of a car. The sounds Yuuri made were pure sin and God, I wanted to burn in Hell for all the sinful things I would commit to him. He said my name like a prayer, a plea, and it made me shiver and wanting to growl proudly deep in my throat.

Three different things were rolling off of the skater's tongue - with or without noticing it, I didn't have the faintest idea. One of them was my name, which I could understand even underwater, and the other was a very accented "fuck me". I wanted to slam the door open, pin the insolent tempter to the bed, tie him up with the sheets and have my way with him, fuck him and pleasure him until he won't be able to move anymore, until he will leak for days. He kept murmuring the same Japanese thing again and again; something starting with 'one', but I was truly out of my depth here. Yuuri's canting got steadily louder and firmer until he straight up shouted out my name and after that only his harsh breath was the evidence of his pleasurable time before.

I was just about to move, to silently walk away when I heard Yuuri's first sniffled, yet silent cry. I stood there, frozen for a whole other reason but all the same, as Yuuri busted out sobbing and I just stood there like a complete idiot, wanting to comfort the Omega, to cradle him up on my chest and never let him go. To kiss every bit of his worries and problems away and to protect him. I heard footsteps suddenly, approaching the door with high speed, and I thought I was caught, that he sniffed me out. Which was I think a nearly impossible thing not to, considering the thick cloud of sexual, horny pheromones around me. I stepped back quickly, vainly trying to melt into the shadows of the corridor, which I knew will neither hide nor protect me from anything, but that didn't stop me from still doing it.

But to my utter shock, my Yuuri stormed out of his room without sparing me a look, without acknowledging my presence and ran down the hallway with slightly loud steps and hands whipping away tears. Rooted to the spot I stood there as a sculpture, and the only thing I knew how to do was to watch him disappear around the corner.

***

In the morning I headed to the kitchen to have something for breakfast, mind still busy with the happenings of last night and also with the fact that Yuuri wasn't at his usual spot where he sat until now every morning already when I arrived. Yuuri's mother and sister were quietly conversing with each other after greeting me and carpeting my greetings, but my mind quickly returned to the present when I heard that word again.

”Mari!” I said abruptly, even startling myself with my sudden, loud outburst. “I am sorry,” I said, shortly. “What was this word you said?” I asked, eagerly. Poor Mari just blinked at like as if I lost my mind. “What word?” “Something beginning with ‘one’…” I said, really trying to pronounce it right to avoid misunderstandings. Both Mari and Mrs Katsuki just looked at me with frowns on their faces. Then they started to talk in Japanese once again, but soon only Mrs Katsuki turned towards me again. “Do you mean ‘Onegaishimasu’, Vicchan?” she asked and I nodded feverishly. “Yes! What does it mean?”

"Please,” came the quiet, worn-out tone form the door and I turned around to find a visibly not well-rested, but still standing and smiling Yuuri looking back at him with something Victor could only try to describe as guilt, not that I had the faintest idea for the cause of it. “It means ‘please’.”


End file.
